


The First Noel

by Heartensoul



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:35:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24212998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heartensoul/pseuds/Heartensoul
Summary: Heero, Relena and the first Christmas of real peace.
Relationships: Relena Peacecraft & Heero Yuy
Kudos: 5





	The First Noel

Title: The First Noel  
Name of Author: Crystaltear  
Fandom: Gundam Wing  
Pairings/Characters: 1xR (HeeroxRelena)  
Word Count: 1,358  
Rating: G  
Disclaimer: I do not own it.  
Summary: Heero, Relena and the first Christmas of real peace.  
Notes: Repost of an old fic.

197 A.C.

The year following the second Eve war, the President’s Christmas party was held at the same place and time, for the President was not a superstitious man. Like the year before, the hall was decked out in an overabundance of multi-colored lights, a group of carolers stood in the corner opposite the punch table, decked in the old-fashion dress of top hats and ribbons, and a 12-foot tree sat in the center behind the podium from which the president gave a stale speech of hope and reconstruction in the new era of peace. 

The Preventers, an organization that had fallen behind the backdrop since peace had begun to reign, made their presence known as obligated in the form of Lucrezia Noin and Lady Anne Une, two women who promised to follow their own tradition by leaving as soon as politeness would allow. As for the others in attendance, they were mostly politicians who had put on their best outfits and smiles that night in order to rack up new political favors or support for their favorite causes in the upcoming year. As it were, things were going just as planned, and everyone was content.

However, one prominent figure was absent from this political rally disguised as a Christmas party. Vice Foreign Minister Relena Dorlian, after a vigorous tour that began in the colonies and then spanned across every land surface of Earth, had strategically planned her personal holiday to coincide with the holiday season. It being her first break since she had taken office over two years prior, few had anything to say on the matter other than that she would be missed among the brightly-colored lights of the President’s hall. Noin and Une noted that there was still strong hope among the many male diplomats that the Vice Foreign Minister might attend the New Year’s gala, and the two were too kind to dash those hopes with the confirmation that the young woman had no plans to step near a political party until the middle of January.

While the young diplomats contemplated their hopeless plans to lure an unlikely attendant into a New Year’s kiss, the subject of their wistful fantasies was sitting in her modestly decorated den in what had once been the Peacecraft residence in Sanq. Such titles were no longer attached in name or land boundaries, but the home belonged to Relena all the same. She was alone on this night, but the young girl seemed quite content with her quiet surroundings. Her mother had gone to visit family in Belgium for the holiday, and Relena, adamant on avoiding all political discussion during her much needed break, had opted to share well wishes with her mother through a simple phone call. She had also given her staff the night off, so with the exception of a few necessary security guards, she was utterly alone.

The solitude might have depressed another, but Relena had quickly learned the lessons of independence and the necessary appreciation for what she labeled “me time.” Of course, Relena would not object to certain intrusions, but those were intrusions she had come to expect in their natural progression, rather than hope overzealously as she had years before. With maturity, she had tapered her need to try to consume things she could not even grasp. Like the tide, if you sit patently upon the shore, the ocean will come to greet you on its own terms and in its own time.

During this break, Relena figured there was about a seventy-five percent chance she would earn a visit from her once-sworn protector and killer. She didn’t like to play statistical games when it came to someone as unpredictable as Heero, but she knew he was due for a visit. She also knew that despite his cool façade, he could be very nostalgic concerning the events of only a year before.

Of course that, very same reason might keep him away from her, not wanting to return to those memories that she was no doubt infused with. And if that was the case she would be happy believing that somewhere else, he was enjoying his first Christmas of real freedom.

\---------

The clock had just struck twenty after nine when Relena got up from her reading to make her second cup of hot chocolate. She hummed along with the light Christmas melodies she had playing well after the music no longer reached her ears, and she dimmed the other lights within the house as she made her way back to the comfort of her favorite room. As she stepped back into the archway, the silhouette of a figure caught her eye as it flickered across the far wall. Surprised but not startled, she gazed thoughtfully for a moment at the picture Heero made: He was adorned in a dark gray jacket and black scarf, the fire illuminating his profile in a warm orange glow. A white bakery box was balanced easily in his left palm, and he gathered it into his other hand before turning to look at her.

“Heero,” she greeted warmly, simply. “I didn’t hear you come in. Did you come through the front door?”

“Of course I came through the front door, how else would I come in?” he replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Relena gave him a look that could only be described as incredulous, and smiled warmly at his light humor. Despite the light-hearted greeting, he seemed--even to her untrained eye--a little unsure of his presence in her home; perhaps he too had wondered if she had reservations about his coming. It was a fair question to ask: Do people who meet--who are comrades in wartime--do they have a future after war? This was a question Relena and Heero had both faced as individuals, but now they had to question it in regard to them as a pair.

Was there a future for them, or only memories?

“I wasn’t sure if you would come,” she spoke honestly.

“I wasn’t sure if I should,” he answered just as simply. He laid the box on the small table beside her book, but made no further move.

“I’m glad you did,” Relena finally admitted, always the first to show her hand in this game they played. Heero made no verbal response other than to reveal the box held Christmas cookies. Relena’s lips quirked up, the slightest hint of her amusement, and then returned to her kitchen to get Heero his own cup of hot chocolate. 

Yes, they would try to make new memories with the future that had molded together.

\------------

When she returned a second time, Heero had removed his jacket and scarf and settled into the loveseat perpendicular to her chair.

“Make yourself at home.”

“Hn.”

‘Still haven’t gotten rid of that habit I see,’ thought Relena while placing the second mug down and setting into her own chair. Surface similarities aside, she sensed in Heero an overwhelming calm that radiated from him. She could sense it in the ease of body language and the casualness of cookies; Heero was accepting this new freedom he had fought for, and he wore it well. She could only hope he found positive changes in her countenance as well.

And so, with cookies and the low hum of Christmas music in the background, Heero and Relena spent that first Christmas in comfortable silence, enjoying the calm company of each other as the first building block of their new camaraderie was set. In war they had been promoters of peace, partners despite their different methods of reaching that end. In this time of peace, the dynamic of their companionship had yet to form. But no matter what shape it would take in the future, they would always be sure of that moment: This was what they had fought for.


End file.
